


Kiss and Make Up

by AndeliaMaddock



Series: Rigging the Odds [4]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Guns, Just Dudes Being Dudes, Kissing, M/M, Massages, Nudity, Public Kissing, Punching, Weapons, flirtation, unfortunate phrasing, violence in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 23:32:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndeliaMaddock/pseuds/AndeliaMaddock
Summary: If he were the most important man in a casino, where would he sleep? Not somewhere too far away from the elevator, surely. Important men didn't want to have to walk too far, did they? Eeny, meeny, miney. Well now. Double doors? That was almost too easy.To knock, or not to knock? A knock could be anyone, they might just answer. If he picked the lock, Benny might hear it, might have a gun at the ready in the meantime.What could Benny do, shoot him in the head again?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read out of order with the others in the series that I've written before it, but I don't fully recommend that. If you want full context, reading the others stories would help. Either way though, I hope you enjoy!

Bright lights, big cities. Wasn't this the dream that Wastelanders spent their savings chasing? 

He moved towards the gate, and three men in white tee shirts paused their no doubt engaging conversation and glanced over.

"Hello," he offered a friendly wave, and took another step towards the entrance.

"Whoa, whoa, new guy. Are you another squatter?" A guy with hair way cooler than anyone standing in 110 degrees weather had any right to crossed their arms, and stared him down.

"He doesn't look like one. Squatters don't have armor." A dark skinned man smirked and stepped closer. "You ain't a squatter, right, guy?"

"Maybe he got lucky, found it on someone. And it's just leather armor. It's not even that great." The first one remarked back, and kept his same unimpressed expression plastered over his face.

"Well, first off. No, I'm not a squatter. And second. I did get lucky and find it on someone. Upgraded from Vault armor to Leather, thanks to some guys who shouldn't have attacked me thinking I was a mark." 

"Oh, tough guy." The first one snickered, and shook his head. "But you're still not from around here. So you should know, the Kings run this place, and we don't take kindly to strangers sticking around too long, if they aren't the right sort. And from that hat, you're not the right sort."

He'd gotten into fights for no good reason a lot when he'd been younger. Not that he was ancient or anything, but he'd aged past that bloodlust. The desire to prove himself to people who aimed for a fight had evaporated. He just looked at them, nodded, tipped his gifted 1st recon beret, and moseyed on over to the gate. "Thanks for the advice, fellas. I'll keep it in mind." And through the gate he went.

He tucked his beret away when he'd passed through, and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. It'd be hotter without the hat, what with the sun beating down, but if a beret made him enemies here, he wasn't about to keep it on. Eyes on the prize, he reminded himself.

Thank God Boone wasn't there, though. With how he tore through Legion soldiers every chance he got, and turned people hostile just from a look of him, the Courier had felt discretion key to getting to the bottom of what exactly had gone wrong with his assignment. Boone had put up a token resistance when asked to sit this confrontation out, but seeing as how the Courier had helped Boone settle a chapter in his life, it was only right that Courier got to choose how he settled his own things.

At every side, there was activity. A man sold suspicious meat, and tried to convince the Courier to consume; a child ran past with a knife, apparently chasing his next meal; a little boy cried out, boldly announced that anything you wanted could be found at a store nearby.

It was a lot to take in. He felt a migraine roll its way from brain to belly, with the sharp pain in his head forecasting the nausea that would hit him soon. He managed to stumble a few feet forward, before he found himself on the ground, clutching at ruined cement and gasping for air.

Someone in the distance called out, but it was muffled.

He glanced up, but it took too much energy, and a fresh wave of pain shot through him. He kept his breaths as steady as he could manage, and hoped they wouldn't try to mug him in his prone position. Rocks dug into palms, and he slowly lowered his forehead to the cooler ground of the alley here, nestled in shade. 

"Hey, you don't look so hot. I mean, sure, you do." Someone crouched nearby, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't we take you on over to the fort."

"I won't surrender." He grunted, and tried to pull away.

A chuckle, and a face got closer to his, turned sideways a bit to look at the Courier better. "Not a bad fort. The Mormon Fort. You know, with the Followers?"

"Followers?" He shut his eyes, and damned Benny again for bringing these migraines on him. 

"Of the Apocalypse. Wow, and I don't even think you're drunk. Unless it's vodka, or some other similarly composed drink." The man stood, and reached down to help him up. "That head wound looks like it's seen better days. How long ago did you get shot?"

He shook his head, but it only increased the roaring. "I don't know. Time's a bit difficult to track, lately."

"I don't doubt it. I think Julie should take a look at you." Arm in arm, he lead them along.

A few paces in, he nearly tripped over his own feet, and instead turned and stumbled sideways into the blonde stranger. 

"Wow, falling for me already? If circumstances were different, maybe I'd return the feeling." 

That got a laugh, despite the pain. He grinned up at them, and licked parched lips. "Oh, give me a minute, and you'll be eating those words." Their face went a bit fuzzy, for a moment. Then it was dark.

There were noises about him. Bustling, hurried noises. Coughs in the distance. Someone stepped nearby, and he reached for his gun, just in case. Not that it was where he expected it to be. A wave of panic tossed about in his head.

"It's alright. Don't be afraid. My name is Julie Farkas, I'm your doctor." A woman with a calming voice knelt down next to him, and smiled ever so softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like the world's worst hangover just about passed." He looked up from the woman with a tall mohawk, and past her. The blonde man stood there, worrying at a clipboard's top. "Oh, my knight in a white labcoat. A savior among men."

A slow grin blossomed over the man's face. "I told you he was a charmer."

Julie chuckled and nodded, then stood and adjusted her own lab coat. "I've done what I can for you, for the moment. Am I correct, that the migraine and loss of consciousness is something new, perhaps due to your injury?"

"Well, I've had some headaches before it, but nothing like that. Well, except after a long night out in a big bustling town, that is. Those have left some marks on me." He shut his eyes, and recalled a few such times. A smile eased over his tense face, and he let himself relax, just a bit, despite being surrounded by strangers.

"Well, whatever the case. I'd like you to stay here for a few days, under observation. With an injury like that--"

He sat up, though how quick he moved pulled a wave of sickness almost all the way up his throat. He swallowed it down, and took a deep breath. "Doc, doc, I appreciate the concern. From both of you, really. But I'm here on business. I can't lay in bed all day."

"Business more important than your life?" The blonde cocked their head, and seemed to take him in more studiously.

"Well, the business is what made my head like this in the first place, so. A bit? I don't want them to get away."

"Ah, you're here for vengeance then?" A more stern expression flooded her face, pulled her lips tight together for a moment, before he continued, "As I was saying. An injury of that nature isn't the sort you heal from immediately. It looks to me like whoever patched it up, sent you on your way right after. There's absolutely no aftercare shown."

He felt a flush burn its way up his neck and torch his cheeks red. "Well. He did the best he could. And seeing as how I was unconscious for a few days, at least that was some rest and time he had to help me heal, right?"

"And who exactly tended to you?"

"Um. Doc Mitchell, in Goodsprings. He's a good sort, Miss, uh. Doctor Julie. But it's not his fault I'm stubborn."

"No, I'm sure that started far before you became her patient." She sighed, and lightened her tone just a bit. "Just promise me that you'll at the very least stick around the area for a week or so? Come in every night, let me examine you?"

"Couldn't I let you examine me in the day and him examine me at night?" He teased, and it seemed to lighten the mood. She smiled, he smiled, and the handsome man behind her did too.

"Oh, I can tell we're all going to have a handful with you. Just keep your activity to a minimum. Another injury in your already weakened state, and you won't be seeing anyone again." She turned, pat the blonde on the shoulder, and exited the tent.

Blonde knelt down before them, and reached a hand out to push a bit of sweaty plastered hair out of Courier's eyes. "You really are awful, aren't you?" And with none of the tone that suggested he meant it. "Barely say two words to me, and already you're flirting more than I've seen in months."

"Guy like you? I'm surprised to hear that."

"Flirtation will get you everywhere." He pulled his hand away from Courier's head. "I'm Arcade, by the way. And you are?"

That was the ticket, wasn't it? "I'm just a courier. That's all."

"Oooh, is that you trying to be mysterious for me, or do you always answer questions that way?"

He gave a lopsided grin, and leaned a bit closer. "Which would make you more likely to swoon?"

"The former."

"Definitely that then." Unsteady, feeling a bit like a newly hatched gecko, he stood. Carefully, he took their hand and let them walk him to the flap. "I'm usually a lot better at this whole 'walking' thing, I swear. You just haven't seen me in action yet."

"Oh, right, right. Well, I suppose a splitting migraine and a gunshot wound to the head will do that to you, so I'll take your word on it."

"Even with the gunshot wound, I've been able to do things you wouldn't believe."

"Oh, I probably wouldn't. But feel free to tell me about them anyway." Arcade offered a sly grin, and they stepped through the flap, and into the moonlit fort. 

\--~~--

"So, hold on. You mean to tell me, you don't let the actual citizens of this town eat here?"

"No. I don't. And that's a sensitive topic, so let's drop it."

"Sure, I would. But Julie sent me to try and hash things out. We want to make this town a safer one."

Her tone only barely softened, and she took a deep breath. "Julie's a good one. If you must know, we wanted to provide food for everyone. But an envoy we sent to the King got brutally beaten."

"That doesn't sound a whole lot like something the guy I met would do."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. We know that envoy made it to his building. We know he almost died. Are you done asking questions? I have a lot of hungry people to try and feed."

"Thanks for everything, Major. I appreciate it. I'll figure out what happened." He handed his iguana bits off to another person in line, and kept right on towards the King's building.

The walk was quick. He was motivated. Right on through the front door, and immediately Pacer's scowl caught his attention.

"Now, I heard tale that you heard a crock a lies from that Major."

"Oh?" He shrugged and kept on. "Might've been lies. Guess I'll find out from the King."

"You don't need to take that mess to him! He's got enough on his plate without instigators like you riling everybody up."

"Gosh, I wonder who beat that envoy that was sent here. Could've been anyone, but you're painting yourself as suspect one, you know." He watched Pacer with a casual interest in their rapid movements.

That scowl deepened, and lines formed tight along that otherwise smooth forehead. "Don't you go talking on things you don't know. That wasn't an envoy, it was a spy! And if he couldn't take what he got, then maybe he doesn't belong here."

"Why would you think he was a spy?"

"Because the NCR doesn't help no one without something in it for them. Get us to suck at their tit, then wean us and make us fall in line, that's their plan."

"Alright. Got it."

"You better get it. Or you won't stick around long enough to--"

The Courier pushed past Pacer, and called out through the door. "Hey, King, you might wanna hear some news."

That ever smiling face tilted a bit and looked on back. "Yeah? You wanna come on in and lay it on me?"

"I think Pacer should be the one to tell you himself."

Pacer stiffened, and took a deep swallow. "You rotten little," but the voice was quiet, low enough only the Courier could likely hear it. "When I get my hands on you--"

"Well, c'mon then, Pace. Why don't you both come and let me know the news. Hope it ain't too bad. Between us, Rexie here ain't feeling too good." He pat the cybernetic dog a few times, and smiled back at them both.

Pacer followed the Courier, and stalked right up to the front. "NCR's been making moves lately. Trying to take over the little bit of this town that's still ours. That's still free."

"Yeah, so I've been hearing."

"They sent a spy--"

"An envoy," The Courier interrupted. "You think they're a spy."

"Hold on, hold on. Envoy, spy. What're you two going on about? What's this got to do with anything?" The King sat up a bit straighter, and his thick brows pulled in ever so slightly, in concentration mingled with evident concern.

Pacer jammed his hands into his jacket pocket, and glanced down near Rex. "I didn't want a spy coming in and taking everything from us."

"So what happened?" The King clasped one hand over the other.

"I beat them, and told him to tell the others to leave. Get out."

The King focused on Pacer for another beat, then glanced back at the Courier and leaned back once more in his chair. "So now, you go on. Who does the NCR say this fella was?"

"Who, I don't know. Why? Major Keiran says it was an envoy to get free food and other supplies to locals."

Brows lifted, he shifted his gaze between the two of them a few times. "So you mean to tell me, they say they wanted to hand out food, but..."

"I didn't have a choice." Pacer stepped forward. "I know they're planning things."

"How do you know that, Pace?" King shook his head.

"I have my source."

"One you trust?"

"And my eyes. C'mon, King. You know and I know things've been tense. Squatters are taking everything from us."

"That don't make it ok." He stood up, and ran a few fingers along his smoothed back hair. "Pace. I want you to keep from attacking any of them in the future, right? Least let me get to the bottom of this. If it turns out, they're as rotten as you say, then we'll make 'em pay."

Pacer grit his teeth, but gave a stern nod. Elbows jutted out at sharp angles as he dug his hands around in those pockets. Finally, "Yeah, King. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"Good. I'm glad you're looking out for us, Pace. But I'm thinking, we need a little more talking, a little less action, maybe."

Pacer turned, and headed back towards where they'd come from. After a few steps, he paused his motions and leaned in towards the Courier. Hot breath stroked Courier's face. "Oh, and, Guy? You and me should talk a bit, real soon, just like the King said."

"Oh, I'm sure." Courier waved them off, then stumbled into a chair beside the King. He clenched his eyes shut, and pressed a palm to his forehead. 

"Something else troubling you?"

"Brain. Er, it's fine. Just. I need Julie to take a look at me. Again. Lately, it feels like that's all she's been doing. Apparently 'traumatic brain injury' takes time to heal or something."

The King chuckled low, and shook his head, though the smile never faded. "Well, I wish you luck on getting that figured out. Even with your injury, you've done more for me lately than most around here. You're a good sort. And maybe Julie'll have more luck with your brain than on my Boy." He gave a sad stroke on Rex's brain casing. "Ain't that right, Boy?"

They looked up with concern at the whine from the dog, and the look on King's face. "What's wrong with him?"

"Bad brain, or something. Julie tried getting him fixed up, but... That avenue's been explored, unfortunately."

"I could at least take him with me. I wouldn't mind the company, right now, with how I'm feeling. And maybe there's something else she could do?"

"You'd do that? I sure would appreciate it if you did get some news about him. And he'll definitely make sure you get where you're going. Won't you, Rex?" 

A short bark, and a bit of tail wagging, seemed to be Rex's signal that he was down for it.

The Courier got down on his knees and gave them a real gentle case rubbing, making sure to hit at least a few organic spots to let them feel the attention. "Good Boy. Well, let's get going, alright?"

Julie, of course, couldn't do a damn thing about Rex. And at this point, she didn't think there was much she could do for the Courier either.

"He's up in Jacobstown, last I knew." She nodded down at Rex, then returned her gaze to the Courier. "I wouldn't recommend you go there in your condition though, even if he could help both of you." As though uncomfortable, she lifted her clipboard up higher, and began to scrawl something across the paper.

"Like that's going to stop them." Arcade stood from the mattress he'd been on, beside Rex. "What they really need, is someone to help them get there."

"Oh, a big strong Doctor to help me along in the wild Wastes?" Their teeth showed in a big grin, they stood too, and stepped closer to their handsome friend. "But where might I find one of them?"

"Nowhere, if you keep talking like you don't know he's right here." Arcade let it out as a low growl, but there was still an upturn in his lips.

Julie coughed, and nodded back down at Rex. "There's no guarantee he'll even be able to help either of you, but he's the only one I know of with the expertise. If only Dr. Usanagi were equipped to deal with this sort of thing."

"It's worth it. Even if he can just fix Rex, I'd take him. He's a good boy."

By the time Julie left, Arcade was all but pressed against them. "Where did the Wastes go right getting a guy like you? You just wander into town, and manage to get the King to trust you enough to let you help his dog? Do you know how hard it is to get that guy's trust and respect to even begin with?"

"Not harder than it is to get Pacer to not be a dick." It got a chuckle from Arcade, and that's all he could really ask for with a question that felt more rhetorical than anything.

"So, planning to head out to Jacobstown tomorrow then? If I know you at all, you'll be ready to take on the next big thing as soon as possible."

"Something like that. But tonight, there's somewhere I think I should go, before I leave town."

"Yeah?"

"And I think I should leave Rex here."

"This is the part where you say you need to do something 'by yourself' right? Whatever big quest that brought you this way, you want to tie that up, right?" And though he'd guessed it right, he seemed a bit less than impressed. "All I have to say, is I hope you don't get too caught up in vengeance, if that look in your eyes means what I think it means. You're a good guy. It wouldn't be all that good if you up and got yourself killed."

"Duly noted." He steadied himself a bit, pat Arcade on the shoulder, and even leaned in to give them a kiss on the cheek. The suddenly reddened cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Don't go getting yourself killed. Alright? I almost liked having you around."

He put on a stronger face than he felt when he first stepped on up to the gates to his future. The robots asked for proof of his money, and he readily gave them the evidence they need that he's rich enough to make it onto the Strip.

That's it then. Just a quick scan, and they let him in, let him pass.

There was a flutter in his stomach, and it twisted into a knot. Certain it wasn't from his head wound, that it wasn't the start of that kind of feeling, he sighed at the realization of what it was. Anticipation. He could feel a bit of a tremble in his hands, and he tried to shake it out, but the feeling remained.

He barely paid mind to the half dozen beautiful women pivoting and shaking and calling out for attention. He saw them, but then he saw right through them. 

Victor, such a frequent sight in his adventures across the Mojave, became just another background character. He walked right past them, and through the gates towards the Top. 

A couple passed through the front doors in front of him, despite him having waited at those doors for a solid minute. He ambled in after them, and allowed himself to be searched for weapons just like them. He was just another customer. Just another guy, looking to strike it rich.

They used pet names, and normally he might swoon and croon back, getting more and more familiar with them until it was uncomfortable (or very comfortable) for everyone watching. But he felt a bit numb. All that work, and here they were, so nice. Like they didn't know who he was. Like Benny hadn't tried to kill him, and left him with damage that might not be undone.

He beamed over at a guy who introduced himself as Swank. "Swank. I heard you're the second head honcho."

"Well, that's not exactly the title, but yeah. Who's asking?" A tough voice, and a friendly smile were his reply.

"Oh me? I'm just a Courier. I've got something for Benny."

"Yeah? Well, he's upstairs a snoozing away, hopefully."

"Hopefully?" He felt his brows pull in an inquisitive manner. He gave a slight tilt of the head and regarded them calmly.

"Well. It doesn't matter."

"Has he been alright?"

"Sure, sure. Is this package something I can sign for then? Or should you wait until tomorrow and give it to him yourself?"

"Well, I'd prefer to give it to him. Mojave Express would hold me liable for any missing packages. Not that I think a package would go missing on account of you. It's just--"

Hands up, and a friendly nod. "Say no more, I understand. It's your livelihood. If you want, can give you the keys to a room for the night, on account of you making your way out here so late and wanting to give Benny his package."

"That'd be great!" And the wattage in his smile wasn't fake. This guy was a real nice one. It was a shame he worked for a snake of a man. "I wasn't expecting that, planned on heading towards that Wrassler... Wrestler? Wrangler?"

It brought that smile down a few degree and Swank snorted. "Now, why would you wanna go and do a thing like that?"

"Well, I wouldn't now! Not if the offer's still open. Wouldn't mean to insult you or anything, it's just, a great place like this, it's not usually in my budget."

"Well, tonight you can relax in style." He pulled out a key from a hidden suit pocket, and passed it over. "Go ahead, Babe. You can find that up on the 13th floor."

"Ooh, lucky number 13." He took the key, and pressed it down into his jeans pocket. "Thanks just a whole bunch. I hope I'm not putting anyone out by accepting a room though." And if he sounded a bit goofy, a bit too thankful, that was because half the time before this whole mess, that's how he was. How he felt.

"No, Babe, are you kidding? Benny likes to treat people well. He'd want you to stick around."

"Even a lowly Courier like me?"

"Sure, of course. You'd be surprised. He's gotten some pretty important packages before. Especially lately. If it weren't for how... well. Never mind. Normally I might even wanna wake him, if he's got a package. But not this time."

"That's really good to know though. I was kind of worried, first time on the Strip and everything. But you've been great. How about I deliver this first thing tomorrow? I don't wanna keep him waiting."

"Oh, sure. Should be convenient too, seeing as how he'll be on the same floor." 

"Thanks a bundle. Man, I hope the Mojave Express sends me out this way more often. If you can avoid the Fiends, it's great here." And it was sincere. Mostly.

The sincerity shifted, when he got to the elevator and remembered just why he was there in the first place. A stab of guilt prodded at his heart, before a stab of pain in his head reminded him that this was just justice. And maybe they would just talk. Maybe it was a misunderstanding.

The door shifted open, and he stepped out onto the 13th floor. Highest floor he'd ever been to in a building, and he felt a bit woozy from the ride up. 

If he were the most important man in a casino, where would he sleep? Not somewhere too far away from the elevator, surely. Important men didn't want to have to walk too far, did they? Eeny, meeny, miney. Well now. Double doors? That was almost too easy.

To knock, or not to knock? A knock could be anyone, they might just answer. If he picked the lock, Benny might hear it, might have a gun at the ready in the meantime.

What could Benny do, shoot him in the head again? 

The chuckle felt a bit rougher on his throat than usual. He glanced over his shoulders to find he was alone, relaxed a bit, and fell to his knees before the keyhole. Bobby pin and screwdriver in place, he set to work. 

A prickle formed on his brow, and he squinted and focused harder on his work. He couldn't rush it. Slow, kept someone inside from hearing it. That was the plan at least. But sweat formed, and began to dip down along his eyelids. He blinked rapidly, and almost triggered the pins to fall once more. One did, but the others held. 

In, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. He kept to that breathing pattern, to keep himself from jerking about at all, to keep himself steady.

Another pin raised, and another, and he didn't know how many this damn door had, but he wanted to shoot the locksmith who'd designed the challenge before him. Right up until the lock finally gave a short click, and he felt the door give just a little, a signal that he could enter.

Enter he did. The door shut quietly behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courier interrogates Benny. He's very good at it.
> 
> The bed is comfortable.

A dim light shown in a room, filtered through the bottom of a door. His boots were thick soled, but he knew how to creep in them, even along hardwood. He hoped. At the very least, there didn't seem to be any movement from inside other than his own. And seeing as how he didn't want to draw suspicions, he wore a tight, plain shirt. No armor to make noise, but no protection if he were to be caught.

With a stiff hand, he tried the handle, and found it opened the way forward easily. There, in the middle of a bed, Benny lay, snoring in tiny bouts. The man inhaled deeply, seemed to hold his breath, then turned over in his sleep. The thin sheet that covered him, lay bare his entire toned chest.

Shame this was how it had all gone down. He was a handsome sort.

Courier pat the silenced pistol he'd packed. Right in his front right pocket of his jacket, where he'd left it.

They crept forward. It was surreal, to watch someone soundly sleep, who'd filled more than a couple nightmares of his own. He stood there, crouched just beside the bed. He could feel their breath on his face, he was so close to the source of his nightmares.

The guy didn't even seem that scary, up close. 

Then, he whispered, "Hey, Benny."

"Baby?" Eyes didn't open quite, but they fluttered a bit, and Benny reached out into the darkness. That hand brushed against the Courier's cheek, and Benny smiled. "Mmm. C'mere, Baby."

A sick part of him said go right ahead. Benny had asked, after all. The part that answered had other ideas. "Wake up."

"Mm?" He blinked then, and rubbed a fist against his eyes, pushed the sleep away. Another blink, and he sat upright, and pulled the sheet higher. "You. You're." As thought sleep hadn't quite ridden itself out of him, he paused and shook his head. Wiped his eyes.

"Not a dream, if that's what you're thinking. I'm here."

"I shot you."

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten. Thanks for the reminder." He perched himself on the end of the bed, and pat his stowed away weapon. "I can show you what it's like, if you want."

"No thanks." For someone who seemed so in charge in that graveyard, he seemed awful pale and twitchy here. "How, exactly, did you get out of that pit?"

"Would you believe me if I said I crawled out?"

"No."

"Damn. Well. Close enough. A robot grabbed me and dragged me on over to a doctor's."

"A-a robot?"

"Hold on, I come back, maybe from the dead, and you just worry a bit. I mention a robot helped me and you look ready to bolt?"

"You have no idea why any of this happened, do you, Kid?"

Kid. Ouch. He scooted closed to Benny on the bed. "No, Benny. I don't. That's actually Question Number One. Why. Why did you shoot me?"

A slow burning grin, and Benny whistled low. "You're so out of the loop, you don't even know there's a loop. Baby, you wanna get clued in?"

"Well, it's that, or I start shooting. And since I always preferred a chat to a bullet, coming or going really, how about we start talking?" He put one hand under his chin, and rested his head a bit while Benny relaxed just a bit more.

"So long as you keep that trigger finger to yourself, Baby, you've got yourself a deal."

"Just like that? No, aha, you've fallen into my trap? No, I'd die before I told you? You know, this isn't the climax I thought it might be."

Benny choked on words he'd been just about to form. A tongue darted out, and licked at pink lips. "That's just because I haven't clued you in yet."

He didn't even bother to hide his own lipsided grin at Benny's reaction. "So give me the clues. I'm a patient guy normally, but I've got a hole in the side of my head that says sometimes I just don't have time for pleasantries."

"Ouch. Sorry about that. It was nothing personal, you know."

"No, I don't know. That's kind of the point?" Fingers rapped his his chin and cheek, and he waited a few more seconds for Benny to continue.

"How'd you even get up here anyway?"

"Turns out, you get real impatient when you think you have packages waiting for you. I got comped a room."

Benny adjusted the sheet a bit more, and scooted a bit back. "How about I get dressed, and you and I go have a talk in the living room, right?"

"How about you can get dressed here and now if you want clothes at all."

"Baby."

"I prefer pet names when someone's earned the right to use them." He quirked a brow, and leaned in. "And seeing as how you shot me in the head last time I saw you, you're far down on the 'yes' list of people I want using one on me. Not that you couldn't raise your position, but it'd take a lot of sucking up to get there."

"That's all anyone wants these days," Benny seemed to speak more to himself than anyone else, but soon he sat upright a bit more and shrugged. "Look. I'm not gonna lie, Kid. I done you wrong. But you said it yourself, you don't have a clue what's at stake. This cities in the middle of one big war. People die. I made a call."

"So tell me about it."

"And you're not going to get itchy on the trigger finger?" He narrowed his eyes at the clear spot where the Courier stroked their gun absentmindedly. 

"I'm a patient guy. It took me awhile to get here, I can wait a bit longer to get my answers. Hell, if they're good enough answers, I might even be a forgiving guy."

"Well then, clean those ears out, because I've got a mouthful."

And if he glanced down and said, "I'm sure you do," before looking back up into Benny's handsome face, that was only because he'd spent the week in the company of someone who just loved it when he made those sorts of quips. Really.

Benny shifted beneath that thin sheet, and his tanned face seemed to flush just a bit. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're being a flirt, Baby."

"If I knew better, I wouldn't be." He sighed, rolled his shoulders back in a lazy shrug, and returned eye contact. 

A lazy smirk spread over that broad face. "Well. Can't say I expected this."

"Did you expect me to be anywhere but a grave though?"

"No, not really. I guess luck was on your side, because I hit what I was aiming for. Or maybe you're just thick skulled?"

He knocked his noggin, then nodded and maintained that grin. "Both, I'm thinking. At least, if Doc Mitchell was right in what he said. But hey, that's not the topic. I believe it's, why'd you try to kill me, and where's the chip? Because I've got a job to do, and I intend to do it."

"And hey now, that's one helluva work ethic, really, it is. Maybe it'll help us both out."

"Maybe." He scooted just a bit closer, seemingly uncomfortably close for Benny, if the way he swallowed so thick was any indication. 

"And as far as the why, well, I didn't have much of a choice. I needed that chip. The Strip needed that chip."

"We all have choices, Benny."

"Don't try that guilting on me, Baby. I feel bad for what I did, sure. But this is bigger than you, bigger than me. Hell, it's bigger than that whole war that's brewing all around us."

"Who knew platinum was so important."

"It's not the platinum, Pussycat." He leaned in, and caught them by the shoulders, kept his face right up near the Courier's. "That's just the case. What's inside, that's worth this whole city and more. And if you do what you wanna do, and take that up to House? We may as well kiss our everything goodbye."

He tilted his head, and regarded them through narrowed eyes. "That's not the kind of kissing I like."

A glimmer in those dark eyes, shown even in the dim lighting of the lamp. "No, me neither. I prefer something a lot nicer."

"Tell me. How come you didn't just ask me for help in the start?"

"Oh, you? How could I know you wouldn't be a fink and muck everything up, huh? Sure, you come in here, maybe willing to talk it out, maybe kiss and make up," Stern words shifted in tone, before he coughed and continued, "But I couldn't have known that."

"You could have at least given it a shot. If this chip's so important, leaving a trail of evidence back to you, that's not the smartest move."

"A trail of what now?"

He pulled out a cigarette butt, and then flicked the ornate slightly tarnished silver lighter over onto the sheet that bunched up right beside Benny's curled legs. "Evidence."

"Jeeze Louise, and here I thought I was slick stuff, making rookie mistakes like it was my first day on a job. And you, tracking me here like a hound, making sure to catch up. I'm surprised you didn't just lay down a line and brain me like I did you."

"Some people don't like shooting first, Benny." 

"Ouch, right back to making me twist my gut in guilt. You're a hard one, but you've got a soft side, I can tell. So how's about, you and me, from now on, huh? You're clearly here to talk, and you're listening. You could help me. I could help you. Whaddya say?" A hand that had clutched the sheet, let the material flop down and fold over his groin. He reached out, and seemed to wait for a handshake.

They caught Benny's hand in theirs, but held on just a bit tighter than perhaps necessary.

Benny winced. "Easy on the grip there, strong man."

He held tight though, and pulled them just a bit closer. "I can work with people who've done me wrong. If this chip is as important as you say it is, I will. But you'll tell me everything you know about it. And you'll swear you won't doublecross me like you did the Khans. If I catch a whiff that you're about to betray me. Well. Let's just say, I'm harder to kill than just putting a bullet in my brain."

"Sheesh, you're telling me." He adjusted himself a bit on the bed so the grip wasn't so uncomfortable. "I swear to you, Sweetheart. I won't doublecross you. If I know you're on my side, well. There's no way I'd screw you over this time. I'm honestly just amazed you're willing to talk at all."

"What can I say. I'm a forgiving guy. So give me the chip, and we can get going on this whole thing." He shook Benny's hand a final time, and let it go.

"Oh, uh. Baby." 

"Yeah?" And if it ground out a bit rough and seemed to make Benny recoil, so be it.

"The chip? It's not here."

"Where is it?"

"Well, that's a funny story."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Listen, I see you're upset. Believe me, I'm upset too. Maybe that's how we can help each other."

"Oh, like, I scratch your back, you shoot me twice in the head?"

"Baby, you keep reminding me of that, I'm going to think you really haven't forgiven me."

"I haven't. Being willing to talk, doesn't mean I've forgiven you yet." He grunted, and let out a shaky breath. Even just the light of the lamp was a bit too much for him. He felt himself fall forward, a bit, towards Benny's chest. 

They caught him in their arms, and eased a hand over his shoulder. It'd be almost comfortable, if he wasn't aware that Benny could take this as a sign of weakness and show what a snake he really was.

The other hand stroked through his hair, and seemed to avoid where the bullets had been. "Feeling alright?"

He shrugged and nuzzled closer. He laughed, though he didn't feel it. "This spot just looked comfortable."

"Hmm. I might be almost worried, you falling for me so soon. But I'm used to that sorta thing happening." The hand curled a few fingers behind the cup of the Courier's ear, and he tilted their head back, looked them in the eyes.

"That's the second time this week someone has said something like that."

"Oh, lucky you. Must be a popular guy."

"Or it's just a corny line." He adjusted his position a bit, and moved himself so he wasn't pressed right up against Benny's chest. 

"That nasty little wound on the back of your head wouldn't have anything to do with your sudden change in demeanor, would it?"

"Who, me? No, I'm practically made of steel. A bit of lead in my skull can't stop me." He did anything but look at the light, and that unfortunately meant shutting his eyes. 

"Uh huh." Benny shifted his weight on the bed, and carefully helped the Courier lay back. 

"I don't want--"

"Shh. Least I can do is let you get a bit of rest. You look worn out, Baby."

There was a trap there, somewhere. Definitely a trap. He didn't open his eyes, he just relaxed on the bed. If he died, at least it was in one of the last comfortable places in this goddamn world. He could sleep for a month on a bed like this.

Benny pulled the sheet up over the both of them, and lay beside the Courier. He seemed to be on his side, from where the bed moved, and how close his voice was. "I never wanted to shoot you, you know."

He blinked, and felt a wave of pain spread out over his forehead. He offered a smile, despite it. "With all that monologuing you did before you did it, I figured maybe you were psyching yourself up for it. Too bad you didn't psych yourself out of doing it. All these migraines have a source, you know."

He watched the hand this time, one that just reached over, and pet through his hair. It avoided the spot itself, and gently nudged other strands around it. "You wanted to know what the chip does?"

"That'd be great."

"It powers up House's securitrons. I don't know how, I don't know some things. But I know he wants it because he wants to truly have control over this whole Strip. And the surrounding areas. He's another player, and I can't have him do what he wants to do."

"And what do you want to do?"

"Well, I might not like them, but I get their point. The Kings think everyone should be free, you know it? Every man his own, every woman her own. Baby, that's all I want."

They let their eyes close for a bit. He just listened. 

"The NCR, they'd change the Strip and everything it means. And don't even get me started on the Legion. They need out of the picture, and I mean now. Though, I may have screwed the pooch on that one."

Eyes open, he focused on that face. "How?" If they were Legion, or had accidentally--

"I lost the chip. May've been a Legion scout or spy for all I know." He rolled over onto his back. "I got a few months so focused on the chip and these plans, and right before the goal, I screw up. Literally. He was handsome, and flirting, and honestly? He just looked fun. I'd been so tightly wound after... you know. I figured, what harm could a little wham bam thank you sir do?"

"He stole the chip?"

"Stole? Found and didn't return? I don't even care. I just want it back. If he did know what it was, I don't think he's made a move with it yet. But the problem is, he's like a ghost."

"You can't find him?"

"He gave me a fake name, which, ok alright, I might too if I were just some guy looking for a good time in New Vegas. But to go by King. Can you believe that?"

"He... he went by King?" Migraine or not, he let out a laugh at that, and carefully shook his head. "Ballsy."

"Well, that's one way of putting it. So I leave, and I head over to my room to..." He paused, then sighed. "I planned a few things. Where to use the chip. How."

"Right."

"And I pull it out to look at it, and I've got nothing more than a regular chip in my pocket. I go to his suite, and find him gone. Run downstairs, and what've they got for me? Hey, hi, you just missed him, guy turned in his key and left. Can you believe that? I comp him a suite key for as long as he's in town, and he leaves immediately after I do? That doesn't sound like something an innocent guy would do."

"Yeah, especially if the key was to a suite. Especially if the bed feels like this one." Speaking of, he maybe burrowed a bit more into the pillow, and felt some of the tension pull out of him. "Got any leads on where he headed?"

"Like I said, this 'King' guy might as well not exist. Bit shorter than me, plain brown hair. Buzz cut. Kinda older than I normally go, but handsome too. Real sad puppy eyes. Not exactly something you can describe and pull up a real distinct image, you know?"

"Yeah. Shame." He stretched, and let out a quiet yawn. "I probably shouldn't go to sleep."

"Probably not."

"You could do something awful." He nuzzled the pillow more, and tugged the sheet up over them a bit higher. Legs curled up, and he let out a content sigh. God, he was comfortable.

"I won't."

"Because you need me to find this guy?"

"You are pretty good at finding people. You found me."

"It's not like you were hiding from a 'dead' man, Benny." The last words came out from behind a yawn, and he blinked to look at Benny for one last glance, then shut his eyes and felt consciousness coaxed out of him by the comfort of the bed.

Vaguely, in the distance, he felt like someone mumbled through cotton. Voices raised, and carried themselves right over him. He didn't mind. He just nestled himself deeper in his comfort cocoon, and snored soundly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get really nervous writing Courier. The whole, anti-OC crowd that was super loud when I was first really writing has me scared to write any OC. So, a compromise was I didn't give them a name. Maybe they don't know their name. Maybe Courier is literally their name, and they figured getting that job was fitting. Whatever.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courier and Benny are going to be best friends, with absolutely no hiccups in the path to growth for both of them. I'm calling it now. This will be smooth sailing, from here, on in.

"Was worried I really had killed you, just months longer than I would've thought." Benny handed him a mug of something warm and brown.

He inhaled some of the steam from it, and recognized it as coffee. Barely. It wasn't as thick as he normally had it. But still, he took a sip, and accepted that it was alright. "Worried, or relieved?"

"Worried. We're supposed to be partners in this now, right? That's why you vice gripped my hand and shook it, right? I've got the bruise to show we've got a deal." He perched on the edge of the bed, and regarded them with a slight smile.

He sat up, and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Heh. Sorry about that. My brain might be fucked, but my strength didn't go anywhere I guess."

"You're telling me." Benny brought his own mug up to his lips and let out a sigh. "Damn that's good."

"This?" He glanced from his mug, to Benny's. "You actually like this? It's like water."

"Excuse me? This is fine imported pre-War coffee. The best of the best. Not like that sludge you get out in the Wastes."

He raised his brows, but kept his words to himself. Coffee was coffee, at least as far as the caffeine went. In went another sip, and he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"You don't have good taste, I guess. That's alright, good taste has been a curse to me in the past."

"Oh I'm sure." He smirked and arched a teasing brow in their direction. "So, if you're wanting me to track this guy down, do you have any info on him other than you fell into bed all but immediately?"

"Don't say it like that's a bad thing. After all, you fell into my bed right away."

"Yeah, must be all that sweet talking you do." He finished the rest of the mug off in a gulp, and moved to sit beside Benny. "That, and the traumatic brain injury. I just can't help myself."

Benny laughed, but it was a bit tenser than some of the others. "I can get you a description of him that one of my guys wrote up. As far as they know, he's a stranger to the Strip. None of them ever saw him before."

"Alright. Well. Time's a wasting." He carefully stepped onto the ground, and toed his way towards the door. "I've got some things I need to do before I get that chip."

"What could be more important than getting the chip?"

"Getting my brain fixed?"

"Pal, Buddy, Friend. I can get you patched up, best doctor in the West. But we really need to focus on the chip now, I think."

"Look, Benny." He opened the door, then leaned against the frame a bit and glanced at them over his shoulder. "I'd love to. But I've got to see this doctor. He apparently specializes in this sort of thing. Plus, I made a promise to a friend that I'd help their dog."

"That mutt, Rick or whatever?"

"Rex. And yeah."

"So, you're in good with The King then? My my, you really are moving around a lot, Baby. Making all sorts of friends, huh?"

"I'm real likable that way. Or, at least, I get things done. People tend to like that." He pressed his forehead to the cool wood, and took a deep breath. "I don't know how well I could track anyone right now. I lost a lot of steam coming here to find you."

Benny was up, and across the carpeting. A hand caught at his shoulder, and ran along his back.

It brought a chill, despite the Mojave heat. "Barely even made it onto the Strip, actually. I guess, if you really did want to kill me, you could have, right? Sleeping as sound as I was."

"I could've. I'd be lying if I said I didn't consider it. But a deal's a deal."

"Is that what happened with the Great Khans?"

He stiffened, and the hand pressed a bit harder against his clothes. "No. They tried changing the deal. Benny doesn't like getting played, you dig? Asked for double the caps, or they told what I'd done. That's a no-go, you know?"

"Funny how they didn't mention that part."

"Yeah, well, funny how I left the one who demanded it dead, and didn't bother with the rest. Maybe they don't know what happened, but he knows from his spot in Hell just exactly what he did to earn it."

"Look, if you get a lead before I aim to leave, I'll help then. Strike while the iron's hot, and all that. But otherwise, I'll be back in probably a week. Hopefully, not so fucking woozy all the time. It's like a constant cazadore sting."

"Alright, fair enough." That hand worked a bit more gently, stroking and massaging him. "Why don't you just relax for a bit though. You're so tense."

"Uh huh. Isn't getting the first hot guy you could get into your bed what got you without a chip?"

"Heh, fair. But no, it wasn't my bed we were in."

He snorted, but didn't push away the hands. A massage sounded nice, even if it was from. This guy. Hell, maybe that made it better. They were rotten, sure, but they seemed sincere if only for the moment. Plus, he'd be blind if he didn't see Benny was an attractive sort.

"See? Let me take care of you." A whisper at his ear, low and husky. Fingers that stroked along his clothing, managed to work out knots even with material between. "Why don't we get that shirt off of you, hmm?" Fingers walked down Courier's back, and pulled at the bottom hem. 

He relaxed, and let them peel the material off of him. "I'm not going to bed with you."

"You already did. And just relax. You're so tense." He began to lead them in towards the living room.

A knock at the door, and then it opened inward. "Benny. I've got that info you--" 

Courier just blinked at Pacer, and then back to Benny. Shirtless, still sleepy, and a bit confused, he stayed in place.

"Oh, good. Hey, that's great news!" Benny slid his hand down Courier's back, then stepped forward and towards Pacer. Hands clapped together, then spread and he began to usher Pacer further in. The double doors shut with a click.

"What're you doing with this chump?" Pacer kept his eyes right on Courier.

"Chump? Oh. Figured when he said he was going to help The King, that meant you two were buddies too." Benny stood at Pacer's side, and his eyes darted from one, to the other, a few times. "Looks like that's what I get for assuming."

"I'm not working with that guy." Pacer took a step back, and turned towards the door. "Seeya later."

"Whoa, Baby. Baby. That's not how this works. Why don't you two kiss and make up, and we'll all see this through, right?" Hands on Pacer's shoulders, fingers that dug in just a bit more into the jacket than necessary. "You wouldn't want to upset me on my turf, would you? After how I was so polite to you on yours."

"Polite nothing. This is bullshit. He went and got me in bad with The King. Can you believe that?"

"Honestly? Yeah. But Pacer, come on." He turned them, forcibly, until they faced the Courier once more. Then he leaned in, and whispered something at their ear.

Pacer's face fell, but he held himself upright. His chin tipped back, and his eyes all but screwed shut with irritation. "Fine. Like I said. I got some info. But I want the money up front. This wasn't easy info to get." Those words tumbled out, bitter and cold.

"Sure, sure. I don't have the caps in the room, but if you two can behave, I'll be right in with them. And you better have all that info ready for me."

"If you gotta go, fine. I'm sure Guy here and I can catch up just fine by ourselves."

"Uh huh. Play nice, would you? Or at least, don't kill one another." And through those doors he went.

There was the click of a lock.

Courier sighed, and stepped to the bar. A nice sarsaparilla in hand, he offered one to Pacer, who declined. With a shrug, he padded over to the couch, and settled in. Just like the bed, it was one of the more comfortable ones the Courier had the pleasure to be in.

"Looks like he's having his fun with you, too. Funny, I figured you were more interested in that old doc you've been wearing on your arm all around town, like an accessory."

"I am, actually." The Courier plopped his feet up on the couch, and stretched. If he ignored Pacer, maybe they wouldn't try to instigate yet another fight. Even if they were so good at it.

"Oh, playing a bit on both sides?"

It had just been a massage. Not even a great one, though that was probably due to being so sleepy and so tense about it all. Not that he'd tell Pacer that. Seemed like the guy was a bit jealous. He grinned. "I like to play the field."

Correction, he liked to tease the field. When it came to actually doing anything, he tended to run. Just. Run. But Pacer didn't ask, and Pacer didn't care.

"Would be a shame if that doctor found out. I doubt he'd care for you much after that."

"Might be a shame if The King found out you were making deals with people in The Strip. I doubt he'd care much for that."

"You're a real piece of shit, you know that? I oughta teach you a lesson."

"Well, go ahead."

"If I didn't have a lot of money riding on this, I'd have your skin."

"That's pretty weird. What do you want my skin for?" He worried. Of course he worried. The guy was a snake like Benny. But showing that fear didn't help much. And if he could bother Pacer a bit more, hell, he was down for it. 

"You shut your mouth."

"Ok." Another gulp of sass, and he glanced at the double doors. "So, do you know Benny the way you think I do?"

"That's none of your business." Boot stomped on hardwood floor, and he stood just before them. 

"For being The King's best friend, you're a lot more wound up than him. That's probably not good for your heart."

"How do you know about that? That fucking doctor tell you? I knew I shouldn't've gone into them."

"Actually, I was just making conversation." He finished the soft drink, and set it down on the ground, before he kicked his legs out fully, and relaxed on the sofa. "But now I guess I know."

"That's why I can't stand you. You put your nose in everyone's business. That'll get you dead some day."

"Yeah, probably. I've been dead before." Isn't that what the good doc had said? No heartbeats when he'd first arrived, but Victor convinced the doc. He grinned, and shrugged.

"You're fulla shit."

"And bullet wounds. Which is the real reason Arcade was hanging on me all week."

Pacer kept true to his name, and quickly stepped along the well worn pre-War rug. There were marks that showed someone, far in the past, had done just that in nearly that same pattern years ago. 

The double doors sounded with a key in the lock, and then in they swung. "Hope you two didn't break anything."

"Just Pacer's heart when I told him all about how we slept together."

"I thought I told you to shut your mouth," Pacer ground out, his tone almost exactly like it had been just earlier before talking to the King. "You don't listen well."

"Go figure, I apparently have a type." Benny strode in, a suitcase that jingled in hand. "Now before I hand this over, how's about you lay it on us what you know about this 'King' character?"

"Whoa, you got Pacer in on this? And I thought I was special." He grinned and folded his hands behind his neck. 

"I really do have a type, don't I? Obnoxious, deadly, attractive. It's like I'm some sort of masochist or something. Here, I thought I was just a hedonist." Benny set the suitcase down, and motioned for Pacer to have a seat.

"You're really involving him in this? Watch out, that he doesn't betray you." Pacer glared down at the Courier.

Benny settled heavily just past the Courier's feet, and eyed them cautiously. "What's he talking about?"

"Oh, apparently keeping him from starting a war he can't win with the NCR is betrayal." He glanced from Benny, to Pacer. His throat was dry, tense, but he did his best to swallow. It came out sounding like a gulp, and he tried to cover it with a sigh. As though none of this bothered him. 

"I beat that spy the NCR sent." Pacer stomped to a chair, and tossed himself backwards into it. He glared between the two of them from across the room. "And what do I get? Blamed for starting things I didn't start."

"Yeesh. Sounds like a tough spot. Now, about that information..."

"I mean, you're the one who told me to watch them more carefully."

The Courier lifted a booted foot onto Benny's lap and arched a questioning brow in his direction.

The look was promptly ignored. "Whoa, hold on. I just said watch your back. I'm not the one--"

Pacer launched from the chair, and pointed, "Oh, don't you go deflecting. You said they were ones to watch, I watched. When they sent a spy, I acted. And now I'm up and getting blamed? There was tension before I lifted a finger, that ain't my fault."

Benny's grin was stiff, and his eyes held a lot more than his soft tone indicated. "Listen. We can talk about that all you want later. Maybe I can even help you out. But I need that information. Pronto. Do you have a name? A location?"

"Just a name." He began to tread along the rug once more, hands dug into his pockets, a frown on his face. "Guy apparently didn't want to be known for what scum he was."

"Legion? Or?" Benny tapped a few fingers along the suitcase at his feet. "C'mon, Pace. Out with it."

"Knight. Major Knight. NCR scum, as far as I could tell."

"Whoa, whoa." Up the Courier sat, and he pressed a shoulder to Benny's and leaned up real close so he couldn't be ignored. "There's no way he's a spy. Or a thief. He's harmless. Well, ok not harmless, he's in the NCR. But he's a good guy."

"He took my chip."

"Ok, but there's no way he did it on purpose."

"He ran as soon as I left." Benny pushed the Courier's leg off, and stood. "I don't care if it was on purpose or not. I'm getting what's mine."

"It was mine first." The Courier stood. "So, Pacer. Do you know where he is?"

"No, just got a name. But that should be enough, right? I mean, you've got your resources." Pacer eyed the leather suitcase, and eased his way closer to Benny and the prize. "Looks like your new friend here knows about this punk. So you can find out the rest from him."

Benny lifted the suitcase, and handed it over, though he didn't pay mind to Pacer after the transaction was complete. "Go on, get outta here."

A quick peek at the insides, and Pacer smirked, closed the suitcase snaps, and headed back on out through the double doors.

"If you try to do something, like shoot the guy, you'll make an enemy." Courier stepped closer. "We get the chip my way, or you're out an ally."

Benny's lip twitched, and those dark eyes narrowed on his form. 

The Courier didn't breath.

Broad set shoulders lifted, then rolled back and relaxed. "Fine. We try it your way first, Kid. But if he doesn't give in, he's mine to deal with. Got it?"

"He won't be a problem."

"So you know where he is?"

"I'll take you there."

Benny bit at his bottom lip, and clutched his fingers to his palms, open, shut, open, shut, several times before he nodded. Finally, he put his hand out and tilted his head just a bit. "Well. Care to shake on it? And maybe not break my hand while you're at it this time?"

The Courier grinned, and placed their hands in Benny's. "Sure. I'll lead you to him, but we try to get the chip my way first." He shook, firmly up, firmly down. When he let go, he faltered. Benny kept that grip, stronger now.

Benny tugged them in, and lowered his voice, "But if they don't, we get it my way."

He was all about playing it cool, despite dangerous situations he rather consistently found himself in. But that look, the set of that calm smile, gave him pause. The Courier nodded, "Fine," and pulled his hand back once more. 

Benny released him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it's not smooth sailing like I thought. Oops.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benny and Courier join forces to go find the chip, and at no point does either one do something awful to the other, for any reason. You can trust me.

"You know, I'd hoped it'd be the last time I had to trek around in the heat." Benny wiped a trail of sweat from his forehead on the back of his hand.

Courier glanced down at his Pip-Boy and cycled through to the maps.

"Are we close?"

"Benny. It's been like, an hour."

"The sun's set. Your sense of time must be as busted as that pretty little head of yours."

"Gee, wonder who's fault that is." But it held only a fraction of the malice earlier comments in the day had held. The Mojave sun had melted most of his irritation into exhaustion. "Just simmer down, alright? We're on our way."

"We've been on our way this entire time. And since I don't know exactly where that way is..."

"Guess you'll just have to trust me, huh?" He returned the Pip-Boy to his side, and kept on trekking to a nearby shack to make camp for the night. "I trusted you last night, and it didn't get me killed."

"Something tells me that was less a trust thing and more a trauma thing." But Benny seemed to concede to it, on the exhale of a sigh and a nod. Hands pulled a comb from his front pocket, and he did his hair. Beads of sweat arced out, and landed on the heated ground. "Alright, alright, we'll do it your way. But I'm not too keen on stomping about in the dark of the night. Let's find a spot, and settle in all comfy cozy, right?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth." He pointed off in the distance. "Old building over there. No Fiends or Vipers or any of those others, last I knew. Made a campfire there when I was coming through to New Vegas, it might work out for us now."

"Well, say no more, I'm in." He clapped his hands together, and started on in the direction Courier had pointed.

Watching Benny for a day, listening to him go on about anything that he wanted, had let him in on quite a few things. One, Benny thought a lot of himself. Two, he knew a lot about a few things, but was pretty damn ignorant on others. Three, Benny had a voice that could stoke his fires anytime, in more than a few ways. From irritation to arousal. That was an interesting combination, and he was a bit anxious to know they'd be together for at least a few more days. 

He settled down in front of the assembled fire pit, and pat his front shirt pocket to pull out Benny's lighter, before he sighed and glanced up. "Got a light?"

Benny's face lit up himself, he crouched down low, and offered the lighter. 

They reached to take it.

Benny pulled back, "Ah, ah, no can do, Kitten. I let go of this lighter the first time. But this baby's mine now. Whatever you need lit, I'm your man."

He pulled out a bit of tinder from a pouch, and handed it over. "You know what to do, right?"

"You're funny, real funny. I mentioned we weren't always the Chairmen, right?" He placed the fluffy tinder on top of a few sticks, and lit it. "We were the Boot Riders. One of the toughest groups to ever ride into the Mojave. Nomadic, and all that came with it. So, yeah, I know my way around making a fire."

"You never cease to surprise me." He eased back against a convenient rock, and watched Benny get the fire started. A slow smirk spread across his features, and crinkled around his eyes. "How come you insisted on wearing that suit, huh? That made it a hundred times easier tracking you to New Vegas, and if anyone wants to track you this time, it'll be the same thing."

"Baby, some of us, we're just stylish. It's a curse, but I love it." He blew a bit on the flames, and worked them in with the remains of a few logs that no doubt the Courier had been the last one to use.

"It's a curse, alright." He kicked back, and shut his eyes. Pain had blistered in his head all day, burning under the heat and the light of the sun. But now, as he could finally relax, it hit him just how much he probably should take Julie's advice. No running around. No adventures. Drink only purified water, and make sure to eat meals on time. Sleep 8 to 10 hours a night.

Like almost anyone did that in the Mojave. Even Benny probably didn't always get his meals on time. He seemed a busy guy. All those plans, and not enough time to do them in.

The fire was a decent size and a pleasant warmth in the suddenly enshrouding chill of the desert, by the time he opened his eyes again. "Nice work."

"Like I said. I know what I'm doing. You've gotta work on your faith in me, Baby. I'm wounded." He clasped his chest, winked, and 'collapsed' next to the Courier. He leaned in after a moment, and wrapped an arm about their shoulders. "Pretty scene like this, why, it's storybook. Almost makes you forget about everything else."

"Almost." He relaxed against the rock a bit more, and just breathed the scene in. "Knight's a good guy, you know."

"Are we on about this again? I told you, we can try it your way. No harm, no foul, all that. But--"

"I know. But even if my way doesn't work at first. I just don't think doing it your way is a great way. I mean, look how I ended up." 

"Well, not to upset you and turn that pretty face into a frown, but you were a bit of a fluke." He squeezed their shoulder opposite him, and pulled them in closer to his chest. "That's not what'd happen this time. Should we do it my way."

He twisted his lips together, and watched the low flames flicker and shift in the pit he'd dug a week or so before.

"Baby, pouting looks good on you, but I can't help but feel a glimmer of guilt. That's about all I've been feeling lately with you around. Are you ever gonna let that go?"

"I might be more likely to, if I was headed up towards Jacobstown instead of trekking down to the Outpost."

"Jacobstown, that place up in the mountains? Baby, what I hear is up there, you shouldn't be headed there at all."

"Supermutants?"

Benny nodded, and kicked one ankle up over the other. "Why would you wanna go to a place like that anyway?"

"I guess some fancy doctor there can maybe fix me." He shut his eyes again, and just let the warmth of the fire wrap about him and keep him from the chill of the night. "But it shouldn't take too long to get where Knight is anyway."

"No, Outpost isn't that far."

Eyes peeked open and he tilted his head to face Benny. "Who told you that's where we're going?"

Benny chuckled and untangled himself from them so stand and stretch. "You did. Don't you remember? Man, I'll have to make sure to send a few of my guys up with you to Jacobstown, if you're this quick to forget. You'd forget how to use your Pip-Boy for a map, halfway up the mountain."

"Shut up."

"So, he's at the Outpost then. No wonder he was so excited to come and play at the tables and flirt with, well, everyone." Benny warmed his hands in the fire. "I heard that place has been plugged up like a bath these days."

"Well. I did my best to unplug it, but everything's still slow going around there."

"Aren't you just a Mojave Hero." He chuckled, and pivoted to face Courier. Fire at his back, his face was shadowed a bit more deeply than usual. White teeth still shone, though, in his soft smile. 

"Something like that." He pulled out a chunk of gecko jerky, and offered a piece to Benny.

He declined with something akin to disgust etched out on his shadowed face. Hands up, he waved it away. "I'm not exactly a White Glove, thank god, but I'd still rather not eat something that's been in a pocket for who knows how long."

They shrugged, and tore into the piece in their hand.

Benny pulled out an apple, and made his way through that quickly enough.

It wasn't enough to quell the shouts of his stomach, but Courier didn't care. He was used to being a bit hungry. A bit thirsty. Content, he shut his eyes, and let the crackle of the fire lull him to sleep.

There weren't voices this time. There was only darkness, and shadows that shifted to create a dreamscape around him. He opened his eyes to a dim light in the east. Ah, good sunshine, here to guide him and melt him all in one. He slowly situated himself upright, and stretched out the aches in his back. "We can make good time if we start off soon."

He blinked at no reply. Not just no reply, no noise at all except from the desert itself. 

"Benny?" Carefully, he pushed onto his knees, then stood. Creaks sounded from his body, joined the noises around him. But there were no Benny noises. He looked to the shack, and peeked his head in. "Benny?"

As untouched inside as he'd left it. He slammed the metal, and watched with some grim satisfaction when the entire shanty trembled. That'd be Benny when he was done with him. 

He turned, and made his way towards the Outpost. But right there, beside the rock he'd slept at, was a small folded piece of paper under a pebble. He squinted against the oncoming eastern light, and knelt to see just what it was.

"Baby,   
Sorry to eat and run, but you need to get your head checked before you do anything, and I need to talk to Knight. Man to man. And maybe not in the way that got me into this mess in the first place, though, who knows. With all the flirting you and I did, Baby, I'm feeling a bit pent up right now.  
Benny"

Well, he wouldn't shoot on sight with this letter calming him. But he still grit his teeth. Sure, sure, he'd actively petitioned to get his head checked first. But having someone else tell him he needed to? That hit a point of pride.

He finished snuffing out the last embers of the fire, and directed himself towards the path to the Outpost. If Benny got there first, so be it, but he wouldn't let them arrive too much sooner.

Something about traveling the Mojave with a rage in his belly kept him from paying too much mind to his head. It was the only reason that he'd been able to make it through several gunfights and long days in the desert heat. Thoughts of Benny were maybe a bit more complicated now, but it served the same purpose. 

He would make it where Benny was. And he would set Benny fucking straight. Even if it meant a long march and a stony face for hours, slogging through the desert. 

He chugged a bit of thick coffee, and kept right up on the path towards the Giants that shook hands. A few radscorpions tried to get in his way. No problem. He ended them with a few bullets, and reminded himself that he wasn't going to just kill Benny, even if his own head told him it was one of them who had to die.

Partners. Benny, foolish Benny, seemed to think he needed his head checked before he did anything. He was wrong, sure, but that didn't make him evil, necessarily.

If Knight was dead, he'd cut Benny open.

He swallowed another long gulp of that thick coffee. He wasn't bloodthirsty, really. He was just a man on a mission.

Morning almost broke off in the east. He could hear a few birds chirp the arrival of the sun in the distance, past the mountains. Had he slept? No. Of course not. Who could sleep, when they had something more important to do?

He didn't hear a gunfight, so either it had already been done, or Benny had gotten a bit of beauty sleep and the Courier was early to the encounter.

He hoped on the latter, though a small part of him twisted and prayed that the former had happened and Benny was now a splotch in the desert.

He finished off his coffee, and put the mug away in his pack. He'd wash it out with sand later.

The giant metal NCR really did just serve as a marker of space, and a decent maker of shade. Up the hill he walked, weaving around worn down old vehicles, and ignoring any radscorpions that just went on their way. He walked, past nodding off NCR soldiers, and past a few traveling merchants and mercenaries. Normally, he might offer a bit of conversation, ask for a game of caravan. Today, he pushed past the doors to the main building, and felt a chill cling to his forehead that couldn't be attributed to the night cold.

Knight wasn't there.

It only made sense though, of course, of course. He wouldn't always be at his station, sometimes he'd be in the barracks. Of course, of course. And Benny had promised not to shoot first, of course, of course.

He all but ran out of the building and towards the barracks. 

Into the commissary area, he stumbled into Benny.

"No, sorry. Haven't seen him around in a week, at least. He's a real quiet guy anyway. I might not notice if he walked right in front of him." She glanced past Benny's thick shoulders, and grinned wide. "Well now, here's trouble. What can I do for you?" 

Benny might not have caught everything she said, since he was busy catching the Courier. 

Courier didn't even catch it all, busy running square into his quarry. "Benny! What the hell?"

"Hey, I left you a note. Don't tell me the wind blew it on by you? Or can you not read?"

Courier caught him by the shoulders, and pressed him to the wall. "You don't leave me like that, Benny. I'm not someone you can just put wherever you want. We're partners, damn it."

Cass glanced up from her drink and shook her head. "Damn it. Why do I even bothered going for the tough, strong ones?" And down the hatch went at least a few shots of whiskey, straight from the bottle.

Benny chuckled, though it felt flat. "Listen, Baby, it's not like that."

"The hell was it like? You left me sleeping. You didn't even bother to wake me."

"How about we take this outside, huh? We'll wake someone up. And people are staring."

He wasn't normally one to make a scene. Really. He released the checkered material, and watched with some satisfaction how Benny tried to ease out some of the wrinkles in his suit. "Fine. Outside. Now." He didn't wait for Benny to move, he turned about, and exited.

Benny made it though, not more than a few seconds behind. 

Benny made an unfortunate decision. He slammed the Courier, face first, into a table. A tin plate twanged, then flipped and landed on the ground. "You should think twice before grabbing me, Pal. I don't like rough handling of my merchandise." He leaned over the Courier, and ground their bodies together. "I've been awful nice, considering cutting my losses with you would be a helluva lot easier than dealing with you."

"Then maybe you should have." He slammed his right shoulder into Benny's face, and pressed his palms to the table and pushed back. Benny toppled backwards a few steps, and that gave him the opening he needed. He pivoted, and twisted a punch into their jaw.

Blood blossomed forth, and Benny spit it out with no small amount of disdain in his eyes. "Well. That was a mistake, Baby. Maybe if you kiss and make up, I won't grind you into the dirt."

"Fuck you." He moved in for another punch, but Benny caught it in his hand, and twisted.

This is why he used his guns when he meant to kill. And maybe that was a sign, he didn't want to kill. Still, with the pain that burned in his wrist, he felt another surge of rage say, maybe you do. The gun in his holster felt awful heavy, suddenly.

Benny felt awful heavy suddenly too, on top of him, holding him down in the dirt. "I was going to handle this!"

"What, like you're handling me?" He did his best to rock to one side, and plunge Benny off. No such luck, the guy had a bit of weight and strength over him.

"No. The way you asked. Nice and easy, like." He caught the other wrist, and lifted them both up over the Courier's head. "Maybe I shouldn't, if this is the thanks I get." 

"If all it takes is someone being mad," he tried to get a leg between Benny's, but couldn't get any leverage to move it, "for you to do something awful. Then you're awful."

"Then I'm awful. Cry my a river." Benny pressed both of Courier's wrists together, and held them down with one hand. 

"If you shoot me here, a dozen NCR will be on you in a minute."

"I might not look it, but I've got more brains than that. More than you, especially." He held the Courier's gaze, locked in with them. "I'd like to get off now."

"I'm sure you would." They squirmed under him, but still found no purchase. Benny was stronger than he was smart, unfortunately. 

A pass of surprise clouded his features, before it shifted to amusement. "You know, I meant leave you without having to kill you. But. You have been a little tease, haven't you, Kitten?"

Oh. They swallowed and stilled all movements but breaths. Even thoughts paused for a beat. Finally, "Is that all you think about?"

"Far from it. But it's hard," he ground with the word, subtle as ever, "not to when I see someone like you."

"You seem to say that to all the boys. And probably all the girls too."

A raspy chuckle, and Benny pressed his slick forehead against the Courier's own. "Hardly. Just the ones I wouldn't mind a bit of slap and tickle with."

"So, all of New Vegas?" He renewed his efforts to just, get out. It was starting to get uncomfortable in a whole new way, and he wasn't really great on the follow through on flirtation.

"So I'll tell you what. I can forgive you for making a frankly embarrassing scene, if you can forgive me for running off. How about we kiss to seal the deal."

He bit his own bottom lip, and let his eyes wander on down to that bloody smudged pair of lips. It wasn't the worst thing to be asked to do.

"We're burning daylight. Or, we would be, if the sun would get itself up over the mountains. Come on, Pal. Yes, or no?"

Wrapping forgiveness of one another into a kiss was a devious thing to do. He hated Benny for it. He leaned up, and pressed his lips to theirs.

They pushed down a bit further, and one hand cradled the back of his hand, while the other kept hold of Courier's wrists. Benny pulled back from the kiss, and grinned so openly. "There, that wasn't so bad was it?"

They spit out a bit of the exchanged blood, off to the side. "Was ok."

"Maybe it wasn't a good enough bout of forgiveness though? I don't know, you still seem tense."

"Gee, why might that be?"

"Haven't a clue, Sweetheart. Could be anything. Might be that head you keep reminding me of. How about we kiss a bit to make up for that too."

The very idea was ridiculous. He liked that masculine cologne though; it mingled pleasantly with the scent of the desert and the sweat the that clung to Benny's body. He felt that scent fill him, and he nodded. "I guess."

Benny pressed a kiss to the pulse of their throat, and worked those kisses up towards the cusp of his right ear. "That's not a yes, not really. How about you try again?"

"How about you let go of my wrists, and we'll see?" 

Benny acquiesced.

The Courier stretched his fingers out a bit, then worked them down into Benny's hair, and along his neck and shoulders, where they remained and stroked. "Fine. Kiss me. Make it up to me."

"You drive a hard bargain." Benny nipped at the lobe, then kissed it better, before he moved back over the Courier's lips and pressed a bold kiss down to those chapped lips.

"Well. I hadn't expected to see a sight like this." A female voice said from above.

Courier pulled free from the kiss and glanced up. "Oh. Hi uh, Ghost."

A smirk lined her thin lips, and she tilted her head a bit. Eyes hid behind goggles, but no doubt they'd hold the same amusement of that wry smile. "I'd leave you two to it, but the men'll be waking soon. Might not want to be right in front of the door when that happens, you'll get trampled. Plus, I need a piss break and I'd rather not hear action I can't get in on myself while I'm going."

Benny rolled off the Courier, and slapped at his suit a little, to get the dust off. "Good to know." Up he went, muttering something too quiet to be heard.

The Courier stood a moment later, and nodded up at her. "Hey, you see everything and everyone coming and going."

"I should hope so. That's my job."

"Have you seen Major Knight recently?"

She frowned, and shook her head. "No. And since he was supposed to be back about a week ago, I've told Jackson about it. He's a reliable sort, he wouldn't stay in New Vegas longer than the meeting called for."

Courier glanced to Benny, and then back to Ghost. "So. He hasn't been back at all?" And if he held a tinge of fear for Knight in his throat, she didn't seem to notice.

"No. If you see him, kick his ass for me. Or kiss it, if that's your thing. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. But then send him on back to his post. NCR doesn't pay him to not work."

He tried to smile at the clear teasing. He really did. But it felt more like he grimaced than anything, and he couldn't wipe the look from his face. Words cut out dryly, "I guess I'll go look for him then. Th-thanks." He turned, and all but sprinted away, through the gap between buildings, and towards the gate that lead to the greater Mojave.

Benny followed after him and closed the gap far too quickly. "Hey, whoa. I'm sure he's fine. I know he's not in New Vegas, but maybe he's just having a good time somewhere else? Or maybe he stayed in Camp McCarran?"

He slowed his pace, and Benny bumped into him briefly. A glance over his shoulder, and he forced a smile. "Sure. I'm sure he's just fine. But let's go look for him. He'd take main roads, I'm sure. Only a fool goes wandering alone."

"So you like to wander off-road a lot?" Benny matched that smile.

The Courier's own brightened a bit, and he nodded. "The best stuff is off the beaten path, normally. But I have a feeling he won't be too far off it."

"Alright, so there's a plan. But before we head off. I don't know about you, but I haven't slept a wink. I could use some shut eye. Call a truce, and swear neither leaves before the other wakes up?" He pressed a hand out, and his face seemed smooth and sincere.

The Courier accepted the hand, and shook it firmly. "Alright. Truce. No leaving until we've both rested up. And maybe gotten some food you won't bitch about?"

"Please, in this shanty town of a base? I doubt it. But it'll have to do." He glanced back at the commissary, and nodded. "Woman at the front said we could get some beauty sleep in there. You ready?"

"Yeah. Though, I don't know how easy sleep's going to be."

"That pretty little head of yours nods off easier than any dame I've ever had in my bed. My bet, soon as you hit the pillow, you'll be out. So just relax." He caught them by the shoulder, and led them into the building.

"Just relax. Right."

"I'm sure it's fine."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, I sure am a lying snake.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have thoughts, concerns, or pairings you'd like to see in some capacity (not necessarily in this series) then please comment. If you're shy, but still liked this story, then please leave kudos. Thank you!


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